


Adrien Agreste and the Not Good Very Bad Day

by KayNight



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: ADHD, Angst, Crushes, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 03:31:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5401364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayNight/pseuds/KayNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Adrien has a not good very bad day (that turns out pretty okay), Nino is the best friend a kid could ever ask for, Alya loves her friends but sometimes she just wants to wrap them up in blankets and not let them go anywhere she can’t protect them, and Marinette learns how to show her love even if she has trouble saying it (and Adrien learns how to accept all of it, little by little).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrien Agreste and the Not Good Very Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Adrien has combined type ADHD and takes medication for it. On an unrelated note, he is a precious child and must protected. Thankfully, his friends are aware of this.

It is just one of those days: a long drawn out battle with an Akuma the night before (really it was this morning – he must have gotten back in at three), the usual pain from making a fool out of himself in front of Ladybug (and getting thrown into a brick wall which really didn’t help things), and the scramble to get anything on the page for his math assignment were all just the beginning. 

Struggling awake and 25 minutes late with darkness pressed under his eyes along with a tell-tale scratchiness in throat, Adrien stumbles out of bed, manages to woof down whatever the cook had put out and darts out of the mansion and off to school. And forgets about his meds. 

It’s not until he’s dashed upstairs and down the hall to his classroom, skidded to a stop and walked into class (as casually as someone who just sprinted to school can) that he realizes he forgot to take his medication in his rush to make it to class on time.

His stomach bottoms out as he settles into his seat next to Nino – who, of course, because he’s the best friend Adrien could ever ask for, immediately reads Adrien’s miserable expression and bumps their shoulders together, sending him an inquisitive glance. The concerned “Dude, what’s up?” is clear as day in the furrow of his brow and something loosens in Adrien’s chest, and he manages a weak smile. He mouths “later” and feels his smile grow a little stronger at the determined expression on Nino’s face – nothing makes Adrien feel better than having someone at his back. 

Adrien takes a long, deep breath and tries to center his thoughts as the professor claps her hands together and jumps right into the lesson. 

He can go back to the mansion during lunch to grab his meds since taking them just a few hours late is better than not taking them at all. Then, he might just be able to get back to school in time to finish his lab report before class. Adrien scrubs roughly at the tiredness set into his skin around his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose and grits his teeth – he can do this, he will do this. It’s just not going to be easy. But hey, he fights Akumas for a hobby, this will be a piece of cake comparatively (at least, that’s what the Chat in him is insisting). 

He startles out of his planning when he feels himself being pulled sideways, and blinks slowly at the wide smile on Nino’s face and the arm wrapped around his shoulders in a sideways hug: “It’s going to be okay, dude! You got this!” 

Adrien grins and ducks his head in agreement, his brightened mood barely dampening at the look Nino’s stage whisper earns from the still lecturing professor. 

\--

He wants to curl up and cry. That’s really the dominant emotion right now, and Adrien is so tempted to just give in, to just sink into the ground and throw the metaphorical towel in. 

He slept through his alarm for the second time today. He was just going to take a ten-minute nap in the school courtyard under the shade of one of the trees, just to give him some energy before he set off for the mansion – and now there’s only five minutes left of lunch hour. 

He won’t be able to make it back to the mansion in time to grab his meds, which means he’s going to have to deal with withdrawal for the next week - just for having missed this one day. Not to mention that he doesn’t even have enough time to finish up his lab report before class. 

Adrien feels his eyes stinging and desperately squeezes them shut against the rush of emotion, but it’s too late – hot tears drag down his cheeks and his eyes flash open, a Chat-worthy snarl gracing his lips as, in a fit of frustration, he throws his phone across the grass. 

He only feels worse as he watches it smack into a nearby tree with a dull crack. 

He can hear his father now - you are being childish, Adrien. Immature, and selfish. You should be able to deal with this, able to manage it, you are an Agreste – but then there’s another voice, the heartfelt concern in it overwhelming the cutting bite of his father’s: “Adrien? Hey, are you okay?”

Adrien starts and frantically tries to scrub away the tears tracks from his cheeks, now flushed red from embarrassment and not just anger, and doesn’t bother to look up at the girl standing just a few paces away – he could recognize her voice anywhere. 

“Hi, Alya, sorry, I didn’t…” Adrien trails off, and finally looks up and absolutely fails to reign in the startled expression that rushes across his face when he realizes just how close Alya is. As in, she is standing right above him with a very familiar look on her face – ah, she looks just like Nino, that concerned and frustrated frown pressing her lips into a thin line: “The two of you! What am I supposed to do with you guys?”

Adrien has no time to process her words before she’s tugging him up, one hand round his wrist and the other at his waist, into a hug, all warm and firm and tough, friendly love. On instinct, Adrien hugs back, wrapping his arms around her, and lets himself relax into her embrace- it finally sinking in that yes, he’s being hugged for the second time today, and no, he’s not dreaming. 

Through his daze he spies Marinette standing awkwardly a few paces away from them, and for the first time that day he gets a good look at her. He quickly realizes, also for the first time that day, what he must look like, because she looks almost as much of a wreck as he feels. Suddenly Alya’s words make a lot more sense, and he can’t stop the sudden rush of concern for sweet, kind Marinette. 

As Alya releases him from her grip, giving him one last tight squeeze, he takes another glance at Marinette – the dark bags beneath her eyes, the drained pallor of her face and the tightness around her lips – before turning back to Alya, a sheepish smile already pulling at his lips in response to her sheer thoughtfulness: “Thanks Alya, that was…” 

“The best hug you’ve ever received?”

Adrien laughs and brushes a hand through his hair, “Definitely top ten,” which he means in the sincerest way possible, even if there’s not many to rank. 

“Good,” Alya says firmly, a glint of something unreadable in her eyes, “because you’re going to tell Marinette and I what’s wrong and how we can help.”

Adrien’s jaw works silently, gaping awkwardly for a few moments at Alya, ever the investigative reporter, who had crossed her arms in front of her chest to emphasize her point. She squinted at him intently for a moment before turning to the girl still standing several paces away, “Right, Marinette?”

Adrien glances at Marinette, who, despite the pink rising in her cheeks, nods her head – and then as if realizing her own boldness, somewhat hastily adds, “If, if that’s something th-that you are comfor- that you’re okay w-with.” 

“I just, it’s well, it’s not that important,” he stutters, brushing his hand (it’s shaking now he realizes, and the hollow feeling in his stomach cuts just a little deeper, it’s been how many hours since he should’ve taken them?) through his hair yet again, “I just. Well I forgot to…”

He trails off, and swallows hard. They don’t know. Outside of his father and Natalie, only Nino knows. They’ve… well, his father, has always made sure to keep it out of the press, made sure to have the utmost discretion of his doctors – for fear of, for fear of something. And it’s that fear that puts rigidity in Adrien’s spine, that sets his jaw at the thought of failing his father, of letting him down – and suddenly he’s being consumed by the anxiety rushing to his head. 

The panic must be written all over his face because Alya takes a step towards him, and it takes all of his will power not to take a step back in response. 

“You don’t have to tell us, we just want to help, if that’s alright with you,” she says quietly, glancing surreptitiously towards Marinette who is carefully making her way to stand next to Adrien. 

And suddenly Adrien finds himself even more embarrassed then before. They must think it’s something truly awful, the way he’s reacting like this, just like a little kid, and before he can think twice he hears himself blurting out the truth in a rush of words: “I was in a rush this morning and I forgot to take my medication for my ADHD and then I slept through lunch so I don’t have to go home to get them and,” he trails off, shame rising like bile in the back of his throat, “and now I’m getting sick from having not taken them.” 

He looks at the ground. He can’t bear to look at them. He doesn’t know what he’d see: surprise, disappointment, annoyance - any of them are a safe bet, so when the first words he hears are, “I’m going home,” he looks up in complete confusion at Marinette, who looks absolutely mortified. 

“I mean! I mean, what I mean is. I’m going home sick, because I’m, well, I’m sick, I feel sick that is, but my parents can’t come pick me up. They’re at a pastry competition out in the country, outside,” Marinette rushed out, tripping over her words and wringing her hands, looking desperately like she has an idea but doesn’t have the words for it, and god, does Adrien understand that. 

“What Marinette is trying to say, is that I can tell the professor that you’re taking home Marinette to make sure she gets back okay – but you can actually go get your medicine!” Alya interrupts Marinette quickly, earning a grateful look from her friend and a frantic nod of assent. 

“Yes! Yes, that’s exactly. Yes, yes.” 

Adrien smiles tentatively, “You’d do that for me?”

It was the girls turn to be surprised, exchanging one meaningful glance, before Alya responded simply with – “Of course, you’re our friend!” 

Adrien chuckles, breaks into a beaming grin, and then rubs the back of his neck with one hand: “Okay, okay. But I am making sure that you get home okay first, Marinette, it’s the least I can do.” 

\-- 

The ride was mostly in silence, but not an uncomfortable one, but the soft, warm sort of silence that you can only share with a good friend who knows that these few moments of rest will do better than words would. 

He helps her out of the car when they pull up to the bakery, smothering an overly bright smile as she flushes at his insistence at helping her out and taking her right to the front door. He keeps one hand pressed slightly against her lower back, making sure to carefully guide her exhausted movements (and his too, for that matter); he takes quiet pleasure out of the balance they seemed to have settled into almost effortlessly. 

He can’t help but wonder at the picture she makes as she comes to a stop and turns to face him in front of her family bakery, clearly drained and worn out, but with a resolute look in her eye and a solid stance grounding her – and in that moment, she eerily reminded him of his lady, of his Ladybug. 

“Do. Do hugs help?” She asks, her steadfast expression only wavering slightly as she worried at her lip with her teeth, and Adrien blinks in surprise, before realizing that he shouldn’t be surprised, not at the constant warmth of his classmate. 

“Yeah, hugs help. Hugs help a lot actually,” he says, smiling softly, shyly really, at this sweet girl in front of him who just wants to help him. 

And he feels lighter than he has in weeks as she steps carefully towards him, scarlet cheeks and stuttering “okay” in all, and reaches out – and he pulls her helplessly in, sinking into her warmth, the tentative and then more confident brush her finger tips across his shoulder blades, reeling him in gently with a strength he never knew she possessed (though he should’ve guessed, of course this amazing girl would have the strength in her actions to match the generosity of her heart).

“It’s going to be okay,” she murmurs softly, her cheek pressed into his shoulder, her breath warm and light on his neck, and then for the second time today, Adrien feels like crying: “I’ve got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I spent like 5 hours on this I should’ve spent studying for my darn anthro final exam so please enjoy and leave feedback if you can, it feels like forever since I’ve written and I’m trying to decide if I should write the sequel to this that I have mulling around in my brain. These kids are just too precious I love them. I have ADHD, and this is blatantly me projecting on my cat son, but a lot of Chat Noir’s seeming impulsivity and Adrien’s inattentiveness at times reminds me a lot of my own combined type ADHD, so naturally, I had to throw some angst and hurt/comfort with a dash of romance and the power of friendship into the mix and write this. Find me at taralys.tumblr.com if you wanna hit me up with requests or feedback idk or just chat ;) with me.


End file.
